fingers gripping my thigh,
heavy warm breath?—
“Don’t do that.
“Don’t fuckin’ disappear on me now.”
His voice razors through the bass
as if he’s still in front of me.
Gaze crashing back into mine,
his eyes denim waters.
So dark blue they hurt.
His jaw goes rigid, already grieving me,
and I’m still standing right in front of him.
“No—hey. Don’t. Please… don’t shut it down like it didn’t mean somethin’.”
Celie snaps loud in my face—twice. “Hello?
“Anybody home behind those lashes?”
He fades into the background,
the bass bumps back in.
My brows jump. “What?”
“Man, fuck it.” She slams the shot glass upside down against the bar and spins dramatically to face the dance floor. “C’mon, stop frontin’. One song. That’s all I need before I cry or kill somebody.”
She grabs my wrist,
laughing like we’re both not trying to forget something.
I trail behind her, but stop before the edge of the crowd and let her go, close enough to catch her if she slips, far enough so no hands slip and grab my ass.
I stand on the outskirts,
drink in one hand, anxiety in the other,
watching Celie while she dances like the world never dented her,
spins like the hurt never touched her,
laughs like her lungs don’t remember crying.
She’s drinking Drake out of her system.
I’m trying to forget a dream.
We’re both trying to bleed someone out of us without leaving a stain.
I want to dance with her.God, I want to.
